


Little Achievements - The Healer

by Syaunei



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Background Relationships, Backstory, Bajorans, Cardassian Culture, Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Healing, Inspired by Fanfiction, Little Achievements, Occupation of Bajor, Post-Canon Cardassia, Renna Illa - Freeform, Romantic Parallel to Garashir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syaunei/pseuds/Syaunei
Summary: Companion piece to almaasi's "Little Achievements".Explores the background story of the Bajoran doctor Renna Illa.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Original Bajoran Character/Original Cardassian Character
Comments: 25
Kudos: 31





	Little Achievements - The Healer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Little Achievements](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26073979) by [almaasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi). 



> Once more, I must express my gratitude to the wonderful almaasi for writing this story and allowing me to act and co-create this wonderfully bubbly character! Renna Illa was my take on the overall healing tone of almaasi's script. I shall forever dream of a healing for Bajor, Cardassia and all the wounded characters in that or any other universe (including our own). 
> 
> For those who have managed to miss this utter marvel, here's the link to the actual play on YouTube. Watching is recommended for context!
> 
> Getting to act alongside my favorite actor (Andrew Robinson) and Alexander Siddig was an absolute privilege and indescribable joy. As an actress, this was an absolute dream come true. 
> 
> I hope you like the short story set in this, the softest of Garashir universes.

Winking playfully, Renna terminated the call and settled into her chair with a happy sigh. 

She’d known she wouldn’t be winning the Carrington Award from the second she read the list of the other nominees. The Colonel was already well-established and Doctor Bashir’s research was nothing short of groundbreaking. Regardless, as the first Bajoran to be nominated for the award, it was still a major accomplishment. 

“Finished with the call, my sun-seeker?” A soothing voice called out from behind her and she swiveled in her chair with a brilliant smile.

“Yes, my love.”

Three years married and he could still make her heart melt with the smallest gesture or word. She accepted the extended hand and got up, pulled out of her chair to greet her husband with a kiss.

She rested their foreheads together and felt Enar lacing his coarser fingers with hers. She was very glad he’d decided to come along to Andoria with her (despite freezing, poor thing – at least the environmental controls were set to a slightly higher setting to accommodate a few of the nominees, so it could have been worse). Good thing she was specialized in Cardassian medicine. The setting on their shuttle was currently 40°C to compensate. It was just barely tolerable for her. 

“You did good, Illa.” Enar said softly. “I’m proud of you.”

She gazed up into his honey-brown eyes and squeezed his fingers tighter. 

“You know what? I’m proud of me too!” 

Her husband made an almost purring sound of contentment and kissed her laughter away.

“You should be.”

Illa loved the warmth in his eyes. It had always been there, from the moment they first met on Pullock V. She and her mother settled there after escaping the wrath of Bajoran nationalists after the Cardassian retreat from Bajor. If it hadn’t been for her step-father, they probably would have been lynched. Her mother disliked talking about it, but Renna remembered snippets of things.

Her first memory was of her father sending her away with the “nice Cardassian soldier”. She could remember crying, not because she understood what was going on, but because she was annoyed at having their playtime interrupted. Tret had kept her safe by closing them into a small office and training a disruptor on the door. She couldn’t remember much of that night, but she remembered him muttering about keeping her safe. Illa assumed she’d fallen asleep in his lap, hands wrapped around his neck and missed the ensuing firefight. The building had been raided by Bajoran terrorists who wanted to  _ send a message _ about what happened to collaborators. 

The sad thing was, her father was a clerk who distributed supplies to that sector of Bajor. The only thing this attack accomplished was to heighten security and lessen the amount of provisions the population received. Learning the complicated circumstances only once she was of age and her mother finally dared disclose it was… eye-opening. 

Two generations of collaborators was not something to be proud of. Even now, there was lingering animosity, especially considering the fact that she’d brought a Cardassian husband with her to Bajor. Insults and racial slurs were not uncommon, still, Illa refused to run from her heritage, for good or for ill. 

Her mother had been a doctor, one of the few who preserved the knowledge of Bajoran microbiology and medicine. The sad truth was, only collaborators were allowed to practice medicine on Bajor, and had there not been men and women willing to tarnish their names and hands by collaborating with the aggressors, the collective medical knowledge amassed over centuries would have been irretrievably lost. Especially because the Cardassian authorities decided to destroy all records in their retreat. 

It was a staggering blow to Bajoran culture, one they were still recovering from. Fifty years of systematic dismantling of their knowledge and practices left a gaping hole scientists and scholars were still trying to fill. Luckily, the new Cardassian government was performing reparations and had given back all surviving records from Bajoran archives. Some had sadly been lost in the Dominion bombardment of Cardassia Prime. Ever since, Cardassians had wised up somewhat and decided to keep records on all of their colony worlds and not just centralized on Prime.

The new initiative of medical and scientific exchanges between Cardassia and Bajor was also helping. It warmed Illa’s heart to see Bajoran and Cardassian colleagues not just collaborating, but also walking side by side in their off hours, talking animatedly about various topics of mutual interest. She had a feeling she would soon no longer be such an aberration for having a Cardassian spouse. It was lucky that Enar was the gentlest man she’d ever met, and had the most inoffensive profession imaginable.

“How is the flute coming along?” she asked him warmly.

“I’m almost done, why don’t you leave the ship on autopilot and join me?”

“I’d love to,” she murmured and gave him a soft kiss. Disentangling their fingers, Enar surprised her by planting soft kisses to her fingertips.

“My healer,” he said softly and caressed her cheek. She hummed contentedly and watched him disappear into the short corridor that led to their tiny quarters.

She was six when they met. He was seven, small and bright-eyed and curious. Unlike his peers, he didn’t care about her being an alien or Bajoran, he just saw an interesting playmate. They were fast friends. Her mother jokingly called him Illa’s husband and it was doubly funny because it turned out to be true. Her stepfather, Tret, merely shrugged and said:  _ “This was their fateline.” _ The look in his eyes when he gazed at her mother always spoke:  _ “As you were mine.” _

It was from her mother’s second marriage that Renna knew that a mixed Bajoran/Cardassian union could be fruitful, in more ways than one. Her half-brother, Damar, was proof of that. (Many boys were called Damar after the War.) The age difference was substantial between them – thirteen years was a lot between siblings, especially Bajoran ones. Due to differences in fertility, her mother was rather surprised when she managed to conceive again because she was at the very end of her fertile years. Tret was overjoyed. Illa didn’t think there ever was a more doting husband than her step-father, but she’d been proven wrong when she married Enar. He even took her last name, which was virtually unheard of on Cardassia. One did not take on an alien patronym unless in extreme circumstances. When he told her:  _ “Your name is heavy, let me help carry it” _ as part of his vows, she cried for a solid hour, well into their wedding celebration.

Renna fiddled with the controls and set a course for Bajor. It wasn’t home yet, but it could be - one day. 

Enar called her  _ “healer” _ on many occasions, but to her, he was the one that healed. She may have been the healer of bodies, but his craft healed the soul. Creating musical instruments, singing and storytelling – he had the softest, most compelling voice. It was rich and heady and endlessly warm. It was that voice, that soul that she’d fallen in love with. Despite bad blood between their peoples, despite the cultural differences, to her he wasn’t the enemy, he was simply – Enar. Her best friend. Her life’s companion. By his side, it was easy to dispel her wraiths and focus on the future. 

She walked into the back of the ship and into their quarters where her husband was busy crafting a flute. He smiled without looking up and she settled on the bed, observing his efforts. His long black braid lay neatly along the groove of his spine. Not many men wore their hair this long, but she loved it. It softened him further. In her mind, he exemplified every virtue Cardassians held dear – dedication, patience and devotion. He was like a calm oasis in any storm. 

Her mother had warned her against returning to Bajor, claiming that she was blameless and shouldn’t be forced to make amends for their tainted family heritage, but Illa would not be deterred. The truth was – she  _ hadn’t _ seen the true extent of the Cardassian occupation in her childhood. She’d been far away from the labor camps, no atrocities were committed before her eyes – she’d been remarkably sheltered. Her memories of Cardassians were downright pleasant, especially if they involved Tret, who’d always had a soft spot for her as the only toddler anywhere near his posting. She’d been either doted upon or ignored by the Cardassians she grew up surrounded with, and as such, had a very different image of both the Occupation and the Retreat. And Cardassians in general. 

Due to that upbringing, she couldn’t bring herself to hate them, despite the terrible damage to her home world. Central Command had been the culprit, not the Cardassian people as a whole. Still, she understood why the distinction was unpalatable to many Bajorans who had suffered through the many atrocities in those fifty dark years. Nothing could make up for the suffering. That collective wound was there to stay. 

Renna hoped she could help it heal, even a little, and leave the smallest scar possible in its place. 

She believed her example might show other collaborators or their children that they need not stay in exile forever, that they could come back - give back. 

Cardassia and Bajor could heal hand in hand. 

And when Enar’s flute was complete and he played a simple melody to test his handiwork, his breath giving life to the instrument his hands had crafted with so much love, Illa felt the future could be just as warm.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, your thoughts are appreciated! :)


End file.
